Since my return to Chicago, I've become pretty used to the outdoors looking drab. This was one of the biggest mental departures for me after being constantly surrounded by resplendent color in Central America. As I walked out of my building's front door this morning, though, my eyes were magnetically drawn to a punch of color on the opposite side of the street. I rerouted in order to investigate and, sure enough, I witnessed the violet hues of my first spring blooms.
Living in the Midwest my entire life, I know this is no promise of winter's end. However, it is assurance that spring and natural beauty aren't far off...and those lead into the splendor of Midwestern summers. As much as I loved the equatorial weather in January and February, my body has a homing instinct for the summer months. I want nothing more than than the type of summertimes I remember from childhood, adolescence and beyond.
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